Golden Girl (24 page)

“Lexi!” he cried, running over to me and grabbing me into a huge hug. He squeezed so tight he almost crushed me, but I didn't mind. “Oh, sweetie, I thought . . .” He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he couldn't say.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded, pulling away from the hug. “Just taking off in a storm like that?”

“I had to save Becca,” I replied. “I couldn't just let her go.”

My dad reached out, stroking my hair with his hand, smiling at me. “It was very brave of you,” he said. “But foolish as well. You could have died out there.”

“Becca
would
have,” I reminded him. Then I drew in a breath. “Have you seen her? Is she okay?”

“From what I understand she has some severe frostbite on her right hand,” he told me. “But they say she's going to be okay. They just want to keep her overnight for observation.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“Her parents are with her,” my father added. “I think the three of them have a lot to talk about.” He shook his head. “You kids. All this pressure you're under. You're such amazing athletes, sometimes it's hard to remember how young you really are.”

“I'm not
that
young,” I protested.

But he held up a hand to stop me. “Let me finish,” he said. “I know you've had a tough time of it since you've been back. And I feel partially responsible for that. You told me you needed time—and yet I've been pushing you, pressuring you. In some ways, I'm no better than Becca's parents.” He hung his head. “You have to understand. I was trying so hard to stay positive, to show you that I still believed in you and your dreams. Yet I never thought to ask you if you still had the dream to begin with.” He gave me a rueful look. “It's your life, Lexi, not mine. You get to choose what you want to do with it.”

“I want to stay,” I blurted out, before I could stop myself. “I don't want to go back to Florida. I want to stay here and continue my training.”

He bit his lower lip. “Lexi, are you sure? There's no harm in taking a semester off. You'll be fine to come back next year and—”

“No,” I declared. “I don't want to give up snowboarding. But I also don't want to give up singing. And I don't want to give up my new friends. Not that I won't take my training seriously—but at the end of the day there's more to life than snowboarding. And I want to do it all.”

For a moment my dad was silent. I held my breath, waiting to hear what he'd say. Then his face broke out into a large grin. “All right, then,” he declared. “I'll talk to the board in the morning. I'll tell them to rip up those withdrawal papers.”

“And one more thing,” I added, a small gleam in my eyes.

“What's that?”

“Next Saturday?” I grinned. “I want to race.”

L
adies and gentlemen! Next up in the tenth annual Vermont Snow Stars Competition at Mountain Academy, we have four very talented athletes competing in the snowboard cross event.”

I rocked back and forth on my board, my fingers white-knuckling the starting handles, scarcely able to concentrate on the announcer's words, my gaze focused on the crowd around me. Once this was my favorite part of any race. The anticipation, the adrenaline surging. But now it was all I could do not to run screaming from the cage. My heart beat wildly in my chest, and my hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold on. I had to force my eyes straight ahead, so as not to look down.

“In the second stall, we have Alexis Miller, eighth-grade freestyle rider here at the academy. Alexis is competing in her very first race since an injury knocked her out last year. Guys, let's welcome her back, okay?”

I felt my face heat as the crowd roared their approval. Soon a chant of “Golden Girl” rang through the air. Once upon a time I had loved this kind of attention. Having actual fans. But now it was kind of embarrassing. Especially with Olivia in the stall next to me.

Speaking of… I glanced over to find her staring at me.

“What?” I growled. I so did not have anything to say to her.

She rolled her eyes. “Did you really think it was me?” she asked. “All this time—did you really think
I
was the one who grabbed your jacket?”

I frowned. “I don't know. I guess.”

She snorted. “Look. It's no secret I'm not your biggest fan. And sure, I'd be thrilled to have my dad off my back when it comes to you. But sorry to disappoint, Golden Girl, you're just not worth risking my career over. I don't need to resort to dirty tricks to score a win. I would much rather defeat you the old-fashioned way.”

She looked so offended that I had to laugh, despite myself. “Fine by me,” I assured her. “I'm just glad to be back in the game.”

And I was, I realized. I really was. Even though I was scared as anything, I was also admittedly pretty excited. To be on the mountain. Racing. There was a time I had thought I would never be here again. Whatever came of this, I was glad I had done it. That I had had the courage to try.

“And they're off in three, two, one—”

The starting pistol sounded and the gates slammed down. I threw my hips forward, forcing my gaze straight ahead as I pushed off, jolting out of the pack, the wind whipping at my face as I popped over the first few rolling hills. I kept my knees bent, my body aligned, and at first everything felt good. I even had this crazy idea that I could actually pull this off. That I actually had a chance to win.

But then, suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

The panic rushed through me, threatening to crush my ribs. Everything felt as if it was going super fast, yet, at the same time, unbearably slow. As if I were drowning underwater and couldn't make it to the surface to catch my breath.

What was I doing? I wasn't ready for this. Was I crazy to have thought I was ready for this? I was going to crash and burn and—

And sing. I was going to sing!

At first I was more than a little embarrassed, belting out the first classic-rock tune that came to my head as I raged down the mountain. What was everyone going to think? Would they assume I had lost it? That I was totally and utterly insane? But then I realized I didn't care. If this was what it was going to take to get me down to the bottom of the mountain, then this was what I was going to do.

And to my surprise, the crowd did seem to like it. In fact, I could hear a few of them actually singing along as I made my way toward the first banked turn. It made me grin, and I sang even louder, giving them a cheerful wave, while concentrating on my next move.

I was behind Olivia and one other girl, and I watched as they entered the first turn, sweeping up the side to gain speed before exiting around the bend. I followed them, doing my best to score as much altitude as possible, but I didn't make it as high as I'd hoped, and I fell a little farther behind.

But that was okay, I assured myself. The race was far from over. I forced myself to stay focused, choosing my line and readying for the first big tabletop jump. Get good air on this and maybe I could pull ahead or at least catch up.

A moment later I shot over the jump, still singing my heart out. The crowd roared as I flew through the air, the familiar rush of adrenaline seizing me as I soared. I stuck the landing perfectly and launched ahead of the other girl. I could hear her scream of annoyance as she crashed and burned behind me.

Now it was just me and Olivia. I bent my knees and tucked my body in tight, eeking out more speed. My new board responded, flying across the snow, and soon I found myself gaining ground.

We hit the next jump at the same time, popping into the air in silent flight, then arcing back down to the earth below. And we were still neck and neck around the next turn, until Olivia's board nicked a flag, and she flailed to keep her balance. I shot past her; my breath caught in my throat as I realized for the first time that I was in the lead.

That I could actually win this race.

Then I looked up and saw the next jump.

The
jump.

As I raced toward it, it seemed to loom ahead of me, becoming larger and larger until it threatened to block out the sky. My heart skittered in my chest. Was it always this big? Was it always this terrifying? Suddenly visions of me losing my edge, of losing control, of slamming headfirst into a tree swarmed my consciousness, and it was all I could do to not dig my board into the snow and come to a dead stop right then and there.

But then the question above the school gates came rushing back to me.

What would you attempt to do
, it asked,
if you knew you could not fail?

I knew the answer.

I tucked down. Knees bent, board flat. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the lip, ready to pop and soar and win this thing once and for all.

I soared through the skies.

I didn't fall.

And a moment later I crossed the finish line first.

O
h my gosh, Lexi! You were amazing! Totally amazing!”

I looked up to see Caitlin barreling toward me, arms open wide, and I had to plant my feet firmly on the ground to prevent myself from being bowled over by her enthusiasm. Brooklyn and Jessie and Jordan and Jennifer soon joined her, and a moment later we were all jumping up and down in a big group hug. Dante hovered nearby, watching us with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Thanks, guys,” I said when we finally parted, my face still flushed with excitement. “It feels good to be back!”

“Not only back, but winning!” Brooklyn reminded me. “You totally crushed them all!”

“Even Olivia!” added Jessie. “At one point I was so sure she was going to win!”

“But then you just zoomed past her!” added Caitlin, her eyes flashing her excitement. “I'd say that's a little karmic justice right there,” she added with a smirk.

My hands involuntarily wrapped around the gold medal hanging from my neck, as if I was afraid it'd be taken away if I breathed wrong or something. “I'll catch up with you guys later,” I told them. “And we can celebrate properly.”

They all hugged me again and continued to yell their congratulations across the mountain base as I walked away, which made me smile. Not because I was proud of having won the race, but because I was lucky enough to have such good friends. As Caitlin had said, not everyone at Mountain Academy was out to win at all costs. Most were still decent kids who just loved the sport of snowboarding.

From now on, that would be me, too.

I stepped into the locker room, preparing to put away my board so I could join the others at the after-party. It was only after I closed my locker that I realized I wasn't alone. I whirled around. Becca stood in the doorway. Her hand was still bandaged from the frostbite she'd suffered. But she was smiling.

“You were awesome out there today,” she said. “Really great. I bet it'll take no time at all for you to get back to where you were.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I agreed with a shrug. “But if not? That's okay too. I'll be fine either way.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I know you will.” Then she drew in a breath. “I only wish I could be around to see it.”

I cocked my head in question. “What do you mean?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the thumb drive. “I'm going to give this to the school board,” she told me. “I'm going to confess what I did, and then I'm going to withdraw from Mountain Academy. I had a long talk with my parents—they're disappointed, of course, but I think they're starting to understand. They're packing up my room now. We'll be heading back to Boston in a couple hours.”

I stared at her, hardly able to believe what she was saying. “You're going to turn yourself in?” I asked. “Are you sure?” Suddenly, I realized, I didn't want her to do anything of the sort—even if that was why I'd given her the thumb drive to begin with.

I had wanted her to do the right thing.

But now I didn't want her to leave.

“It's time, Lexi,” she told me. “Actually it's way past time. But it has to be done. To be honest, even knowing that I'm going to do it feels like this huge weight being lifted from my shoulders. Like I can actually breathe properly for the first time all year.” She gave me a regretful look. “Thank you for letting me do it myself. You could have turned me in—you had every right to, in fact. But somehow it feels better to be able to stand on my own two feet.”

“Oh, Becca,” I said, my heart melting at the regret I saw on her face. This was my best friend. My brave best friend. I took a hesitant step forward, then threw my arms around her, pulling her to me. At first she felt stiff and unyielding—as if she were afraid to hug me back. But eventually she gave in, melting into my arms.

“You should hate me,” she choked out as we hugged and cried together. “You should be, like, hitting me instead of hugging me.”

I shook my head. “No way. We've all made mistakes. We've all fallen—in a way. But now it's time to get back up and move on. It's the only thing we can do.”

Three Months Later

L
adies and gentlemen, give it up for the first-place winner of the Littleton Junior High fourth annual Battle of the Bands . . . Manic Pixie Dream Girl!”

The crowd went wild. Scarlet and Lulu and I squealed in unison, locking arms and jumping up and down—hugging each other with wild abandon. We grabbed Roland and ran onstage, accepting the absurdly large trophy presented to us by the announcer. Then we headed back to our setup and gave the crowd one last rousing victory song—Queen's “We Are the Champions.” It was fitting, to say the least.

As I screamed into the microphone, my voice echoing through the gymnasium, my eyes scanned the audience. There, at the back of the room, stood my dad, bobbing his head awkwardly to the music. I grinned and gave him an enthusiastic wave. It was funny—at first he'd been so against my singing. But since our whole heart-to-heart talk he'd become my biggest fan, even getting me special permission from the school board to travel off campus to practice once a week, as long as I kept up with my studies.